


if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

by ootn



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Lee Jeno, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, also jeno is an escort but it's not a huge thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25831249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ootn/pseuds/ootn
Summary: they don't know you like i know you, no they don'tuse you for one night and then away they goi don't wanna check into the tokyo love hoteli just want your love all to myselfor,jaemin goes on a business trip and accidentally meets the person he's been looking for all along. unfortunately, it's not exactly that easy.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 41
Kudos: 180
Collections: better together, i met you in a dream





	if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

**Author's Note:**

> its been 47392 years since i wrote a song fic but please pleaseeee please listen to [ tokyo love hotel by rina sawayama](https://youtu.be/7m8wpFC56JM) before/after/during reading, it 100% inspired this fic and its an amazing song regardless
> 
> i tagged this as soulmates but its not necessarily a ~soulmates au~ in the traditional sense, ie; theres no specific indicators of a soulmate or anything but i think of it as more soulmates in a slightly more realistic sense. just two humans who love each other a lot and are meant to be together <3

Monday, 11:34 p.m.

Jaemin’s exhausted, but not in the way that he wants to collapse on his bed and never leave (he does want to do that, though, just later). He’s exhausted in the way that he needs a drink and maybe a good time, so he wanders down the street until he finds a bar that looks like everything he needs: Lots of bodies, no cover, and cheap shots. 

He pushes through the crowd and finds himself smack dab in the middle of the counter when he gets there, a seat miraculously empty, and he throws himself into it. 

“Long day?” the girl behind the counter asks, raising an eyebrow, and Jaemin nods. His Japanese isn’t great, but he manages to communicate to the bartender what he wants and she gives it to him a moment later. She gives him a half smile and then turns to a different customer, and Jaemin can’t blame her. He’s not the most appealing prospect at the moment. 

He settles into a lazy people-watching regimen, eyes glazing over as he stirs his drink slowly, taking sips when he feels inspired to. 

Jaemin hears a rustling next to him, and he turns belatedly to his left to see probably the prettiest boy he’s ever seen in his life. He’s a little shorter than Jaemin and toned, and he’s draped in a sparkly fabric that flashes and almost captivates Jaemin. Even in the dim ambiance of the club, colored by the occasional flashing of the neon lights, Jaemin thinks he can make out that the boy’s hair is bleach blonde— A bold choice that makes him stand out even more than his beauty already allows. Jaemin lets his eyes slide up and down the boy’s body without thinking, but the other doesn’t seem to mind.

“Hi!” he says brightly, in Korean, and Jaemin replies without even realizing this conversation is in his native tongue.

“Hi,” he responds, and the boy doesn’t let him get another word out before he asks, “What are you doing around here?”

Jaemin doesn’t know if he means the country, the city or the bar, but he answers anyway. “Work,” is what he says, because it’s the truth, and he thinks this boy should be able to tell by the three piece suit he’s wearing. 

“All the way from Korea?”

Jaemin blinks, and only now does it strike him that this boy is speaking his language. 

“Yeah… You’re Korean?”

The boy just shrugs, and the bartender walks over, offering a warm smile (warmer than the one she gave Jaemin) and asking “The usual?” She gets a nod and a smile in response, which piques Jaemin’s curiosity immediately. Who is this guy? Why is he a regular? What’s _he_ doing here? He settles on just one. 

“What’s your name?”

The boy takes a long swig of his drink and gives him a sideways smile before he responds. “Jeno.”

“I’m Jaemin.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” Jeno says, and he finishes off his drink before setting his glass down gently on the counter. “I’ll see you around, maybe,” he adds, slipping off of his barstool, “If your _work_ allows.” He gives Jaemin what Jaemin thinks is a playful smirk, and then he melts into the crowd, disappearing almost immediately. 

Jaemin orders another drink.

⭑

Tuesday, 10:47 p.m.

Jaemin knows he shouldn’t go out every night, but what else is there to do? He hasn’t yet gotten close enough to his coworkers to ask them to do something, and he needs some way to pass all this spare time. Outside of the long hours of work, he’s got no other agenda, and he finds himself wandering into the same bar. 

Despite himself, he wonders if he’ll see the boy from last night again. _Jeno._ For some reason, he hopes he does.

Jaemin orders the same thing as last night, and the bartender gives him a pitying look when he does so. Jaemin tips her a twenty and a “ _please pretend I’m not here again”_ look, and thankfully she turns her back on him. 

He’s approached by a couple girls and a guy, and he entertains their conversations with limited interest. They all drift away eventually, no doubt due to Jaemin’s amazing resilience to opening up even a little bit, and Jaemin realizes he’s been in the same spot for an hour when he sees a familiar looking head of blonde hair saunter up next to him. Jeno doesn’t acknowledge him, just nods at the bartender— Not a word is exchanged, but she hands him his drink in a flash. Jeno grabs it and takes a sip before turning toward Jaemin, leaning up against the countertop and making a look of mock surprise when they make eye contact. 

“What brings you here again?” he asks, and Jaemin’s not sure if he should play along or not. 

“Where else is there to go?”

Jeno raises his eyebrows. “A lot of places. We’re in Tokyo.”

“I’m not from around here,” Jaemin states unnecessarily, because it’s pretty damn obvious, and Jeno shrugs. 

“You should get a tour guide, or something. Befriend a local. Learn your way around.”

“Or I could continue to come here every night and run into you,” Jaemin deadpans, and Jeno looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that statement.

“I don’t do tours,” Jeno says eventually, “Not good at walking backwards.”

“Shame,” Jaemin says. He holds eye contact with Jeno as he downs the rest of his drink, before slamming his glass down unnecessarily hard. Jeno doesn’t seem to be bothered. 

“I should go,” Jaemin says after about a minute of silence and eye contact so striking it’s almost uncomfortable. Jaemin feels like Jeno can see into his soul.

“Work?” Jeno asks.

“Something like that.”

⭑

Wednesday, 9:30 p.m.

Jaemin pretends not to recognize the bartender as he makes his way to the same seat at the same bar. Out of generosity, or maybe pity, the bartender plays along, even though she already has his drink poured before he even orders.

He doesn’t even pretend to act like he’s not looking for Jeno, and luckily enough for him, he appears by his side some minutes later, draping himself over the counter.

“Are you stalking me?” There’s a hint of humor in his voice, but he keeps his face impassive.

“I guess,” Jaemin says. 

“Kind of non-committal for a stalker,” Jeno hums, and Jaemin just blinks at him. “Are you trying to get in my pants?”

“I haven’t decided,” Jaemin responds, but it’s a lie and they both know it.

“Yeah you have,” Jeno taunts, “You wanna sleep with me so bad you’ve come to the same bar three nights in a row just to talk to me for two minutes.”

“We could go somewhere else. Talk for longer. Do something different.” 

Jeno grins, standing up straight, and he honest-to-god _tweaks Jaemin’s nose_. “You’re cute. Maybe if you keep that energy and grow some balls, I’ll let you sneak a peek.”

“Why are you even here every night?” Jaemin asks, because it strikes him that isn’t a little odd that Jeno frequents this bar as much as Jaemin does, despite clearly knowing his way around Tokyo? 

Jeno gives him a dramatic wink, and it’s so stupid but it just makes Jaemin want to kiss him that much more. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything else, because what else is there to say? He’s caught in the act and he’s still unsure of whether or not Jeno wants him to beat it. He hasn’t told him to get lost yet, though, so he thinks maybe he still has a chance. Still, this is all a bit much, even for him. He really needs to pick up a hobby.

“Not to act like it’ll damage my ego if you brush me after all this, but if you brush me off after all this I’ll probably become a hermit and never leave my hotel room ever again.”

Jeno laughs at this, loud and sunny, and Jaemin thinks if he doesn’t leave _now,_ he’ll do something he regrets. He stands up abruptly, throwing down a couple bills and giving Jeno a curt nod. Jeno pretends to pout, whining, “You’re leaving already?”

“If I don’t, I’ll do… Something,” Jaemin mutters out, and Jeno’s face lights up.

“That might not be so bad,” he says, just a little too temptingly, and Jaemin backs away from him. 

“Figure out what you want,” he responds, voice strained, and then he makes his exit. Maybe he moves a little too hastily, though, because he nearly runs into someone, and he can hear Jeno’s giggling ringing in his ears the entire walk home. 

A couple hours later, as he tries so desperately to fall asleep, all he can think about is _Jeno_. There’s something about him, but Jaemin isn’t quite sure what. Has it just been too long since he’s gotten laid? He doesn’t think so, because modesty be damned, if he wanted to get some ass he would be able to, easily. There’s just something about Jeno that keeps him coming back for more. 

Jaemin tries to shake it off, and if he dreams about Jeno that night, well, no one has to know.

⭑

Friday, 10:37 p.m.

“See you Monday, yeah?” one of Jaemin’s coworkers calls behind her as she makes her way to her Uber.

“See you,” Jaemin replies light heartedly. He watches her go and then decides it’s time he takes himself home. He’s the last one of their party left and he’s a little tipsy. Turns out a week was all Jaemin and his coworkers needed to start to unwind around one another. 

Jaemin starts walking down the sidewalk before he even knows where he’s going, and even with his slightly alcohol-addled brain he’s not surprised when he winds up at the same bar as he has so many nights before. 

It’s always crowded here, but it’s even more so on a Friday night. Jaemin hardly makes it into the bar before he’s shoved unceremoniously out of the way by someone much larger than him, and as he’s trying to regain his bearings he sees a flash of white rushing in his direction. He straightens up just in time for a familiar figure to land in his arms. 

“You again,” Jeno says at the same time that Jaemin says “Hey, pretty boy.”

Jaemin’s arms are wrapped around Jeno’s waist while Jeno clings to the lapels of Jaemin’s jacket, faces just inches apart. Jaemin only has the brain strength to blink. 

“You still looking for a tour guide?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin nods slowly. Jeno breaks out into a grin. “Great. I’m famished. I missed you yesterday.”

Jaemin doesn’t comment on that last sentence and lets Jeno pull him down the street, and they walk hand-in-hand to some ramen establishment. Jaemin isn’t hungry, but he finds himself paying for Jeno’s huge bowl of ramen and amusedly watching him wolf it down.

“Long day?”

“You have no idea.” Jeno finishes off his ramen and throws his chopsticks down, aiming for the bowl, but they clatter onto the table loudly. Jaemin reaches across the table before he knows what he’s doing, grabbing them and placing them neatly on top of his bowl. Jeno raises an eyebrow at him and Jaemin flushes a little. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin says, “I hate messes.”

Jeno leans back in his seat, drumming his fingers across the table top. “What else do you hate?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A good one. You learn a lot more about people based on what they hate than you do on what they like.”

“So you’re trying to get to know me?” Jaemin asks cheekily, and Jeno gives him a blank stare. Jaemin sighs. “Okay, fine. I don’t really like lattes, I prefer americanos or at the very least black coffee. I hate when people eat in my bed—” Jeno raises an eyebrow at this, and Jaemin explains “My old roommate. Long story.” He waves his hand dismissively before continuing. “I really hate strawberry flavored things, but I like actual strawberries. Um…”

Jeno blinks at him. “Anything exciting? The point of this is learning more about you. That was like, the epitome of generic answers.” 

Jaemin shrugs. “It’s hard for me to think of things I hate. I like to be positive.”

Jeno scoffs. “You might be the first person in the world to answer that question that way. Most people love to complain.”

“I complain,” Jaemin says, “But it’s easier for me to think about what I like. I’m really into photography.”

“Fine. What’s your favorite color, then?”

“White. Pink. Sometimes blue, like the kind you’re wearing.” Jeno looks down at his shirt, like he’s forgotten what he’s wearing. To be honest, he probably has. “I like samoyeds,” Jaemin continues, and Jeno laughs. “What?” he asks defensively. 

“Nothing. It’s just cute, that’s all. Wouldn’t tag you as the type to like… Fluffy dogs.”

“Why not?”

Jeno shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up. “I dunno. You’re really hot. Usually hot guys aren’t into that shit.”

Jaemin’s jaw drops. “Are you stereotyping me? Based on my looks?”

“Duh,” Jeno responds, taking a sip of his drink and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. “I meet a zillion people. It’s easier to remember them if I can compartmentalize them away.”

“Well, I like _fluffy dogs_ ,” Jaemin says huffily, “And am I that forgettable?”

“You’re a hot guy who likes fluffy dogs. Of course not.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Jeno smiles at him. “What about you?” 

Jeno just gives him a look that’s half mysterious, half gloating, and Jaemin sighs. 

“What are you actually doing in Tokyo?” Jeno’s good at deflecting, so he does, and Jaemin leaps at any opportunity to keep the conversation going. 

“We have a design summit. I work for Neo Infrastructure. We’re supposed to close on a design idea for a couple new skyscrapers. If we pull this off, I get a promotion.”

Jeno doesn’t look very impressed. “Aren’t you kinda young to be doing white collar shit like that?” 

Jaemin shrugs. “I guess. I’m the youngest on my team. I started right out of college— I had an internship with them my junior year and they paid for my senior year.”

“Impressive,” Jeno deadpans, and Jaemin is not convinced. 

“I don’t really believe you’re all that impressed.”

“It just sounds so… boring.” Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “Are you happy?”

Jaemin knows he should be affronted, but for some reason, he’s not. Is he happy? No one’s ever asked him that before. “I think so,” he finally answers, and Jeno responds “That was even less convincing than my compliment.” 

“Let’s get out of here,” Jaemin says in lieu of an answer, pushing his chair back and walking to the other side of the table to take Jeno’s hand, pulling him up with him. 

“You got any big plans?” 

“No,” Jaemin answers truthfully. “But I’m sick of looking at your empty ramen bowl, and I hate this music.”

“See!” Jeno says, clinging onto Jaemin’s arm as he leads them out the door, “It _is_ easy to think of things you hate!”

The walk back to Jaemin’s hotel seems to go by quick, too quick, because Jeno talks his ear off and he enjoys every bit of Jeno’s company tremendously. When they finally arrive, they linger awkwardly by the door to the main entrance. Jaemin shoves his hands in his pockets and Jeno just looks at him, chewing on his lip. He catches Jaemin’s eye again, and there’s something there, something… Wild, he thinks, and then all he can think is that he wants to kiss Jeno. So he does. 

It’s clunky and the angle is a bit odd at first, because Jaemin hasn’t kissed anyone in probably a year, but Jeno doesn’t seem to mind. He lets Jaemin lick into his mouth eventually, gripping firmly onto one of his biceps and threading the other through his hair.

They break apart, and Jaemin jumps back a little, feeling shy, and Jeno lets out a quiet laugh. “Thank you,” Jeno says, and Jaemin blinks.

“For what?” 

“For kissing me. I was worried I’d have to kiss your corpse, you were taking so long.”

Jaemin laughs, but this time he doesn’t blush. “You could have kissed me.”

“Maybe, but that’s not as exciting.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. There’s another awkward pause, and then Jaemin finally asks: “Do you want to come inside?” 

⭑

Friday, 11:54 p.m.

“Wait,” Jeno pants out as Jaemin crawls over him in bed, “Don’t you wanna know my prices?”

Jaemin freezes in his tracks. He regards Jeno carefully, almost like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Is that what this is?”

Jeno bites his lip, eyes flickering anxiously around the room. “Isn’t it?” he asks in a whisper.

Truth be told, he knows it isn’t. He knows Jaemin doesn’t know he’s a prostitute, and he knows that Jaemin wouldn’t want it to be like that. Honestly, he wasn’t even going to mention it, he was going to let this happen and _enjoy it,_ but then he panicked and now he thinks he’s ruined everything. Jeno has never had _feelings,_ ever, and never in his life has he had sex with someone just because he wanted to. There was always a cost, always an agreement. Jeno doesn’t know how to _do_ sex when it’s just… Sex. Sex with someone he really likes, despite hardly knowing him. 

“Not to me,” Jaemin replies quietly, and Jeno stays silent. He’s not really sure how to respond. “You’re a prostitute?”

He stumbles over the word, trips on it, and Jeno winces. 

“I… Thought you knew…” he responds weakly, and Jaemin’s gaze wavers. Jeno doesn’t miss how his eyes flicker over his body. “You… Don’t have to do anything,” he says, barely a whisper. “I…”

Jaemin looks at him again, and his stare is so intense that Jeno can’t look away. He wants to go back to an hour ago, eating ramen with Jaemin and making a mess, or to twenty minutes ago, kissing sweetly outside the hotel, or to five minutes ago, when Jeno pulled off Jaemin’s shirt. 

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?” Jaemin asks, completely derailing their conversation and making Jeno turn pink. 

“A lot of people say that,” he says quietly, but not because he’s conceited. He says it because it’s often all anyone has to say to him, other than asking him to fuck in various levels of crudeness. He doesn’t get charmed by men easily, even though they think that’s what they’re doing when they shower him with compliments for no reason other than being pathetic and grimy. 

It sounds different, it _feels_ different, coming from Jaemin’s lips. Jeno feels like he’s underwater.

“Do you believe them?” Jaemin asks, cocking his head. He’s been holding himself up over Jeno for a while, now, but he doesn’t seem phased. _Good stamina_ , Jeno thinks, and then he wants to slap himself because now is not the time.

“Yeah,” Jeno says, but they both know he’s lying.

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno says truthfully. “Are you trying to fuck me for free?”

“I’m trying to fuck you because I like you.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I’ve known you for a whole week!” Jaemin protests. Jeno laughs, and Jaemin sighs. “Do you want to have sex with me?” He looks Jeno straight in the eye as he asks, and Jeno doesn’t know how to respond. To be quite honest, no one’s ever asked him that before. So that’s what he says. 

“No one’s ever asked me that.” 

“Well, they should,” Jaemin says, trying to ignore the weird pang he gets in his chest when he thinks about Jeno with someone else. Especially Jeno with someone else who didn’t ask for his explicit consent. 

Jeno shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

Jaemin makes a face. “That’s fucked.” Jeno rolls his eyes and places his hands on either side of Jaemin’s neck, splaying his fingers. This conversation is too much for him and he doesn’t want to be _talking_ anymore, he wants to be _fucking_. _Having sex_ , he chides himself in his head. _Fucking_ sounds too crude for what he wants from Jaemin.

“I do want to have sex with you,” Jeno says plainly, catching Jaemin’s eye, “I want you to fuck me. I want you to only think about me, now.” He’s stern, and Jaemin nods before even processing what Jeno is saying, but then he does, and he blushes. 

“You’re all I think about, anyway,” he whispers, truthfully, and Jeno’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink despite his scoff. “I’m serious,” Jaemin continues, “Ever since the first time I saw you. Why do you think I went back to that bar every night?” 

“You took a night off.” 

“Still. It was always about you. Always.”

“So prove it,” Jeno says softly, and Jaemin kisses him again.

Jaemin is nothing like Jeno has ever experienced, because Jeno has never had sex for pleasure and not for money. Jaemin is soft and sweet and careful, so so careful. Jeno doesn’t remember the last time someone was _careful_ with him. Jaemin takes Jeno’s clothes off one article at a time, always asking first. For every piece of clothing that Jaemin takes off of Jeno, he takes the same one off of himself, too, and Jeno appreciates that more than Jaemin could ever know. It reminds him that they are the same, and it tells him that Jaemin thinks they’re equals, that this is for both of them. There have been too many times where Jeno was naked and whoever bought him was fully dressed, something that always made Jeno feel small, always made him feel useless. Always made him feel like an object, not a person.

They’re both stripped down to their underwear now, and Jaemin slips his fingers below Jeno’s waistband, pausing to look up at him. “Can I?”

Jeno nods, breathless, and Jaemin smiles. He pulls Jeno’s boxers down and Jeno kicks them off. They land at the foot of the bed with his jeans and Jaemin’s shirt. Jaemin hesitates, and then he pulls his own boxers off as well. They’re naked now, baring themselves to one another, and Jaemin hasn’t even _touched_ him yet. 

And then he does. 

Jaemin runs his hands up Jeno’s legs, between his thighs, and then he wraps a hand around him, stroking him gently. This is another thing that’s somewhat unfamiliar to Jeno— People don’t usually bother to touch him _there,_ or anywhere, actually. He only ever gets fingered open so that clients can shove themselves inside him, and when they’re doing that, they’re doing it with a purpose, not for pleasure. Not to make Jeno feel good, not like now. Jeno arches up into Jaemin, his hands twisting the sheets. Jaemin doesn’t stop touching him, and then his hands go lower, _lower_ , and he’s touching in Jeno several places that no one’s ever thought to touch. It feels really fucking good.

“What do you like?” Jaemin asks, looking up at Jeno, who is startled by the question. What _does_ he like? He’s never even asked himself that question, let alone had it asked to him by someone else.

“I don’t know,” Jeno admits helplessly, and Jaemin nods. 

“Okay. Then I’ll do what I like and you can tell me if you like it or not. If you want me to stop, tell me.” With that he slides a little ways down Jeno’s legs, bending himself over him, and Jeno panics. 

“Wait—”

But then Jaemin’s mouth is on him, and his hips jerk upwards uncontrollably. Jaemin is remarkably unphased by Jeno fucking up into his throat, and Jeno curses quietly to himself. Jeno lets himself relax, at least, as much as he can, and he threads his fingers through Jaemin’s hair. Jaemin looks up at him when he does so, making eye contact which makes Jeno whine and look away. Jeno tugs on Jaemin’s hair particularly hard at one point, because he’s getting closer and closer to falling apart completely, and Jaemin pulls off long enough to ask “Is it okay if I finger you?” 

Jeno blinks and then nods, so Jaemin says “Okay.” He pulls off of Jeno, and then gets off the bed entirely. “Lube,” he explains, rummaging through his dresser, and Jeno laughs a little. “Sorry, babe. Forgot. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable. And… It’s been a while.” 

“It’s okay,” Jeno says, his smile reaching his eyes, and he really means it. There’s something so… _Intimate_ about this moment: The way Jaemin doesn’t mind stopping to grab lube (and a condom, Jeno notes), the way he seems to have no issue with Jeno admiring him like this from the bed, the way he’s so casual and laughs at himself instead of making it more awkward than it needs to be. It feels natural. Maybe it should feel too comfortable for what they are, but it feels right.

Jaemin returns to the bed with lube and a condom, kneeling over Jeno. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“I won’t,” Jeno promises, and Jaemin’s cheeks turn a little pink.

“Okay,” he whispers, and then he coats his fingers with lube before pushing one inside Jeno. 

Jeno shows almost no reaction at first, because he’s so used to people putting their fingers into him that he hardly even registers it now. Despite himself, he finds himself slipping into the headspace he’s usually in when he’s working: Pliant, obedient, selfless. Jaemin seems mildly disconcerted when Jeno doesn’t even react to him pushing a second finger inside of him, so he stops, pulling his fingers out and sitting back on his haunches. Jeno takes a moment to realize that Jaemin has stopped, and he blinks confusedly at Jaemin when he does.

“Why did you stop?” 

“Because you aren’t enjoying it.”

“I am!” Jeno protests, and he’s serious, he thinks. He _is_ enjoying being with Jaemin; this is all he’s wanted for days. “I am, I swear.”

“You’re acting like a robot, Jen.” Jeno flushes a little at the nickname— No one calls him that, not even his family. It’s nice, to be in bed with someone and be called by your actual name, and a nickname at that— Not just _honey_ or _sweetie_ or _doll_. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” Jeno insists, and Jaemin sighs. 

“Jeno, Look at me. You told me you want me to only think about you, right? Well, I want you to only think about me, and I want you to enjoy this. Forget about everyone else. It’s just… Me. It’s just me, and I want you to remember that. I’m doing this for you.” 

“Jaemin, I _know_ —”

“Just let yourself go,” Jaemin cuts him off, “Just let yourself feel. Okay?” 

Jeno is quiet for a moment, but then he answers him, in a voice hardly more than a whisper. “I don’t know how,” he breathes, and Jaemin gives him a soft smile, kissing up his jaw and nipping at his ear. 

“You can,” he murmurs, “You know how.” Jaemin raises a hand and presses it to Jeno’s chest, over his heart. “You know in here. You can,” he repeats, and Jeno reaches to cover Jaemin’s hand with his own. He doesn’t say anything else, but Jaemin kisses him softly before pulling away and looking him in the eye. Jeno gives him a small nod, so Jaemin pushes two fingers back inside him at once, and Jeno _lets himself go_.

He clutches at Jaemin’s shoulders as he works him open, and when he adds a third finger Jeno lets out a gasp that makes Jaemin’s heart skip a beat. He feels up and around, brushing over Jeno’s walls with the pads of his fingers and searching for— He finds it, because Jeno moans, loud in Jaemin’s ear, arching his back. Jaemin smirks to himself and thrusts his fingers in again and again, always aiming for that spot, always making Jeno loud. 

“I think I’m ready,” Jeno blurts out, because he can’t take it anymore, and Jaemin removes his fingers wordlessly, sitting back between Jeno’s knees again. 

“Are you sure?”

For once, Jeno is. “I’m sure, Jaemin,” he says quietly, and Jaemin nods, reaching for the condom and the lube again, getting himself ready for Jeno while he watches anxiously from the pillow. He’s not anxious in a bad way, in fact, he’d say he’s more _excited_ than anything, and he feels something bright and vivid inside him, flooding over his body from his neck to his toes. It’s been so long since he’s been _excited_ for sex, so long since he’s ever wanted someone as bad as he wants Jaemin right now. And he gets him, he gets him all to himself, and Jeno feels _greedy_. He wants all of Jaemin, always. 

For now, he just has tonight.

Jaemin runs a hand through Jeno’s hair, brushing his bangs back and smiling at him before lining himself up with Jeno’s entrance. 

“You’re good?” 

“I’m so good,” Jeno gasps, shaky from nerves and anticipation and _desire_. “Jaemin, please fuck me. Please.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Jaemin slides inside him easily, still stretching him even more, and Jeno… Jeno feels like he’s on another planet. He’s never known _anyone_ to make him feel like this. He’s never, ever been fucked like this. Jaemin is… Incredible. Something in the back of his head tells him that maybe it has more to do with the fact that Jaemin actually likes him, and he actually likes Jaemin, than his technique. His technique isn’t bad, either.

“Are you good, Jen?” Jaemin asks again, and Jeno feels fluttery all over when Jaemin says his name.

“Yeah, yes, yes. Yes.” Jaemin seems content with this answer so he continues on, licking and biting at Jeno’s neck. _Mine_ , he thinks, and that certainly isn’t true, but he doesn’t care. _Mine to mark_ , his brain says, and Jaemin goes along with it, sucking up and along Jeno’s delicate skin. Jeno raises a hand to his mouth when he realizes what Jaemin’s doing. He’s embarrassed by how much he likes it, and he bites down on his fingers to prevent him from making more noise than he already is. 

“Hey,” Jaemin says, halting his thrusts, pulling out and sitting back on his knees. He delicately grabs Jeno’s hand, pulling it away from his mouth, and Jeno thinks Jaemin looks so fucking _delicious,_ flushed and slightly sweaty with his hair a mess (all Jeno’s doing), and he immediately wishes he had his hand to hide behind again. He’s sure everything he’s thinking is written all over his face, because he’s not used to actually having something to hide. He knows he’s red, and Jaemin grins at him, which only makes him blush more.

“I wanna hear you,” Jaemin says, voice deep, and Jeno lets out another pathetic whimper. “Don’t be shy, baby,” he adds, caressing Jeno’s lip with his thumb, and Jeno was enjoying hearing Jaemin say his name before, but _baby_ … He’s been called _baby_ thousands of times, and yet no one has ever made it sound so lovely. It sounds beautiful coming from Jaemin’s lips, and Jeno wants to curl up and lounge in it, like a cat in sunlight. Before he can think, he takes Jaemin’s thumb in his mouth, making Jaemin let out a noise that’s practically a growl.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jaemin murmurs, like he’s in awe, and Jeno feels hot all over. Jaemin pulls his thumb out of Jeno’s mouth gently, and both of them pretend not to notice when Jeno chases after it for a split second. “Here,” Jaemin says, and he scoots closer to Jeno, gently lifting Jeno’s ass up onto his thighs and wrapping Jeno’s legs around his waist.

“Oh, Jaemin, I can’t,” Jeno protests, and he covers his face with his hands again because he’s never felt so _shy_. He’s been fucked in every single position and never blinked an eye, but _this_ … He’s embarrassed, but he can’t put a finger on why. He’s not sure if it feels too intimate, their bodies tangled together like this, or if he feels too _exposed_ , too on display, but despite all of this, he’s enjoying it. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to go back to work as usual after this. After Jaemin.

“What’s wrong?” Jaemin asks, gently removing Jeno’s hands from his face again, and Jeno bites his lip, averting his eyes because it’s all just too much. 

“It’s… I don’t know,” Jeno whispers, looking anywhere but at Jaemin and where they’re about to be joined together. Jaemin seems to know _exactly_ what’s going through Jeno’s head, and he smirks. 

“You’re shy,” he teases, and Jeno wants to fucking _die_. In a good way, though. “What is it? You don’t like being all spread out for me like this?” Jeno whines, looking away, but he still answers him.

“No, it’s that… I do,” he breathes, and Jaemin’s smile grows even wider.

“I thought so. It’s alright, baby, stay with me, okay?”

Before Jeno can even get a word out, Jaemin’s thrusting into him again, and Jeno almost forgets to be embarrassed because it’s so good. “Jaemin,” he mumbles, and then he can’t talk because Jaemin is angling his thrusts just right and punching desperate moans out of Jeno with each one.

“Fuck,” Jeno whines when Jaemin thrusts into him particularly hard, hard enough that he sees stars. “Oh my god, Jaemin. Jaemin, Jaemin.” He reaches behind him and grabs at the headboard tight, grasping at some semblance of stability while Jaemin fucks him like he’s never been fucked before. 

“Say it again,” Jaemin demands, and Jeno is so blissed out he doesn’t even know what he means. 

“Say what?” His question fades into a whimper.

“Say my name,” Jaemin says, and Jeno takes a break from letting his eyes roll back and instead peers up at Jaemin.

“What, are you into that?” he teases, and Jaemin snorts.

“I just like hearing you say my name,” Jaemin admits shamelessly, “I like that I’m the only one fucking you. I like that you’re here, under me, and no one else.”

“Possessive,” Jeno pants, and then, “Oh, fuck, Jaemin _please_ —”

“Please what?”

“Please, please, just, fuck, I just— Jaemin! Jaemin, Jaemin, oh, god.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Jaemin murmurs, “It’s okay. You feel good?”

“So good, so good, _oppa,_ ” Jeno mumbles, and Jaemin freezes. “Jaemin,” Jeno whines, “Please,” and Jaemin realizes that Jeno has no idea what he’s just said. It turns him on almost _too_ much, and he continues to fuck into Jeno, harsh and desperate as Jeno opens his mouth in a silent moan. 

“Jaemin-oppa,” he whispers, and then he’s cumming all over himself. He doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Jaemin hesitates, but then he catches Jeno’s eye and Jeno nods. This time, he pulls one of Jaemin’s hands to his mouth, sucking on two of his fingers as he allows Jaemin to continue pounding into him. It’s so much, it’s too much, and Jeno almost can’t stand being overstimulated like this, but it's intoxicating and somehow he wants _more_. 

Jaemin lets out another throaty noise, a rumbling that bursts out of him as he shoves himself as deep inside Jeno as he can, and then Jeno feels _warm_ , he feels _full_ , because even though Jaemin is wearing a condom he feels _everything_. For a second, he wishes the condom wasn’t there. Maybe he’s lost his mind. He doesn’t care.

Jaemin pulls out of Jeno carefully, removing his fingers from Jeno’s mouth, and Jeno feels so empty that tears immediately fill his eyes. Jaemin notices right away, and he’s quick to reassure him, patting his cheek gently before lifting Jeno up and off of him. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be right back, I just need to clean us up,” Jaemin promises, and Jeno hates the idea of Jaemin leaving him for even a second but he nods anyway. Jaemin kisses him softly before getting off the bed, and Jeno watches as he discards the condom and disappears into the bathroom before returning to wipe Jeno down gently. 

Jeno isn’t very different from him in terms of size and height, but he looks so _small_ right now, propped up on Jaemin’s pillows and bare, staring up at Jaemin with wide eyes. Jaemin pulls on a pair of boxers and crawls back into bed with Jeno, handing him his own underwear and Jaemin’s shirt from earlier. Jeno seems content to let Jaemin put his clothes on for him, and when he’s (relatively) dressed again, Jeno wraps his arms around Jaemin’s neck. 

“What is it?” Jaemin asks gently.

“Can I stay?” Jeno asks, and he sounds almost _nervous_ , which breaks Jaemin’s heart. As if Jaemin would _ever_ say no to him. As if Jaemin would want him anywhere but here.

“Of course,” Jaemin murmurs, “Of course.” Jeno pulls him closer and Jaemin lets himself fall on top of Jeno, burying his face in Jeno’s chest. Jeno threads his fingers through Jaemin’s hair. 

For once, he feels at peace.

⭑

Saturday, 3:04 a.m.

Jaemin opens his eyes in the middle of the night because of the distinct feeling that something is missing, and sure enough, there’s only a warm spot next to him where Jeno was. He turns over and finds Jeno standing by the window, his silhouette bathed in moonlight.

Jaemin has never wanted anything so bad in his life. 

“Jeno-ssi,” he says, his voice gruff, and Jeno turns around slowly. 

“Jaemin,” he says softly, and Jaemin closes his eyes again, extending his arms in Jeno’s direction.

“Come back to bed.” Jeno doesn’t move, and Jaemin cracks an eye. “Jeno-yah,” he tries this time, and it works, because Jeno shuffles back over to the bed. He doesn’t get in, just caresses Jaemin’s face _everywhere_ , his lips, his cheeks, his jaw. Jaemin wraps his arms around Jeno’s waist and mumbles “Back to me.” 

“Okay,” Jeno whispers, trying to ignore the way his heart jumps hearing Jaemin say that, “But you have to let me. Scooch over.” 

Jaemin seems mildly disgruntled to be told to move, but he does anyway, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face in Jeno’s pillow. Suddenly, he’s not so upset about moving, because he smells Jeno everywhere and he likes it, a lot. 

“Did you ask me to get in bed just to stay on your side?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin raises his head off the pillow, looking at Jeno and cocking his head. He’s sleepy, but he still knows, now more than ever, what he wants.

“Jeno-yah,” he coos again, “Come here.” Jeno does, inching closer and letting Jaemin wrap his arms around his waist, and then they’re chest to chest and Jeno tucks his head down, underneath Jaemin’s. “Sleep,” Jaemin commands, and he already sounds like he’s there himself, and Jeno chuckles quietly. 

It’s not until some time later, when Jaemin is _just_ finally drifting off to sleep again, that Jeno speaks.

“You’re no good for my heart, Jaemin,” he says, so quietly and so _raw_. Jaemin is already in the clutches of sleep, and when he dreams, he dreams of those words, spoken over and over by the most beautiful boy he’s ever met. 

⭑

Saturday, 10:46 a.m.

Jaemin wakes up, once again, to an empty bed. Not that that’s unusual to him, but it is today, because Jeno was here last night. Something in Jaemin’s chest deflates a little. After all that chasing, was it really just a one night stand to him?

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair, looking around the room. It’s nearly noon— He and Jeno _were_ up really late— and he spies Jeno’s skinny jeans on the floor at the foot of the bed. Right where he left them. 

Jaemin hears the flush of the toilet, then running water, and then the bathroom door flies open. Jaemin lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Jeno is still wearing Jaemin’s shirt from last night, which is too big on him and ends right below the tops of his thighs. Jeno seems lost in thought as he pads over to the bed, chewing on his fingernails, and when he glances up and realizes that Jaemin is watching him he jumps a little. 

“You’re up,” he says.

“You’re up,” Jaemin responds, and Jeno rolls his eyes. He gets back into bed, sitting criss-cross on top of the covers in front of Jaemin. Jaemin reaches toward him and takes his hand, squeezing it. There’s something in the way that Jaemin lingers, not letting go when he should, and Jeno has a little revelation.

“Did you think I left?” 

Jaemin flushes a little and he nods. “Just for a second.”

“Sorry,” Jeno says, and Jaemin shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay. Just, you know. Not too good with morning-afters, I think.”

“I’ve never had a morning after,” Jeno admits.

“You have one right now. With me.” Jeno peers up at him through his bangs and smiles. Jaemin hesitates before continuing. “Jeno, am I your first…?” He trails off because he doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking, and he gestures aimlessly as if that will help him think. 

“My first freeloader?” Jeno grins immediately to show Jaemin he’s joking, and Jaemin narrows his eyes at him. 

“Not funny,” he says, and Jeno flops onto his back, laying his head in Jaemin’s lap. 

“Hmm,” Jeno says, taking one of Jaemin’s hands and tracing around it with his own finger, “I haven’t really had sex for pleasure before. I did once, when I lost my virginity, but… Well, that time it was more painful than anything, and not long after that, I started working.”

For some reason, Jaemin feels like he’s been cut open, gutted like a fish, and he didn’t think he’d be so hurt hearing that but he is. For one bizzare second, Jaemin wishes he had known Jeno when he was younger, wishes that Jeno could have lost his virginity to _him._

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, and Jeno pauses, dropping Jaemin’s hand and looking up at him.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, just… That doesn’t seem right. You don’t deserve that.” 

Jeno sits up now, regarding him coolly. “I knew what I was getting into,” he says evenly, and Jaemin sighs.

“I believe you. I know. I don’t care what you do, Jeno, but you deserve… You deserve someone who can make you feel something. Someone who touches you because you want them to.”

“And is that you?” Jeno asks, his eyes unreadable.

“If you want me to be,” Jaemin whispers, and all of a sudden this conversation seems too heavy. Jeno must be thinking the same thing, because he asks “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“I showed you mine, you show me yours. What’s your track record?”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “You’re only the second person I’ve slept with.” 

Jeno’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. What, am I that good?” Jeno snorts, and Jaemin chuckles himself.

“No. I mean, well, yeah, but you’re… So confident, I guess. I’ve been fucked a hundred times but I’m nowhere near as confident as you.” He tries to ignore the way Jaemin winces when he says that. 

“I mean, you’re my second ever, but I’ve… Also had sex a lot. I was in a relationship for two years.”

Jeno rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. “What happened?”

Jaemin shrugs. “We just fell apart. We wanted different things, and then when I left for school it just kind of crashed and burned.”

“They were younger?” 

“Yeah. His name was Jisung. He was amazing but, you know. If it’s not meant to be then it won’t, or whatever. He ended up with his childhood best friend. I should have known I couldn’t compete with that.” Jaemin doesn’t seem sad, or even resigned. Just accepting, and he says all of this so casually that Jeno wonders how Jaemin ended up so… Un-jaded. Unlike him.

“I’m sure you had a fighting chance,” Jeno says absentmindedly, and Jaemin grins. 

“I did,” Jaemin admits, and Jeno laughs. He sits back up, climbing into Jaemin’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“But you have me now, right?” 

Jaemin hums. “Do I? Do I have you, Jeno?” He knows he’s asking a lot, and so does Jeno. Jeno just kisses him hard.

⭑

Sunday, 11:14 a.m.

Jaemin wakes up to Jeno straddling him over the covers, carding his fingers through Jaemin’s hair. 

“Hey, baby,” Jaemin says, his voice still a little thick with sleep. He reaches up to caress Jeno’s face with both hands, who smiles. 

“Hey back,” Jeno responds, and he leans down to kiss Jaemin before falling down next to him, latching onto Jaemin’s side. He presses kisses all over Jaemin’s face, and when he’s done he buries his face into Jaemin’s neck. 

“What do you want to do today?” Jaemin asks, and Jeno laughs.

“The same thing we do every day,” he teases, kissing Jaemin on the nose.

Jaemin laughs, and he pulls Jeno back on top of him, running his hands up his sides. “I know that,” he chuckles, “But we need to eat.”

“Mmm, I think I’d rather do something else,” Jeno responds, grinding down on Jaemin through the covers. 

“Jesus Christ, baby, it’s… What time is it?” 

“It doesn’t matterrr,” Jeno drawls, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “Fine,” he grumbles, “It’s eleven.”

“It’s kinda late…”

“Who cares? Are you going anywhere?”

“Not with you on top of me, I’m not.” 

Jeno smirks. “Do you like it when I’m on top?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I like when you’re _anywhere,_ as long as it’s with me. I think I like when you’re under me the most, though.” He pinches Jeno’s side and Jeno squeals. “Anyway. Room service?” 

“Will you fuck me after that?”

Jaemin shakes his head, letting his hands wander to Jeno’s thighs. “You are insatiable,” he murmurs, and Jeno grins.

“I just like you,” he says, “I like you a lot, Jaemin.”

“I like you a lot, too, baby.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “We’re so fucking cheesy. What is this, a sit-com?” 

“Can it be a rom-com?” 

“My god,” Jeno says, “Maybe for that comment I’ll suck your dick.”

“Hmm,” Jaemin responds. And then: “You know, I think room service can wait.” 

They do get room service after all, just two hours later and they get lunch instead of breakfast. 

Jaemin offers to take Jeno out, but Jeno insists that he doesn’t need to be anywhere but right here with Jaemin. “Besides,” he says through a mouthful of noodles, “Where the hell are you gonna take me? That same damn bar?” Jaemin narrows his eyes at Jeno and Jeno laughs, swallowing his food and kissing Jaemin on the cheek.

They lounge all day, and Jaemin thinks he might be in heaven. He’s half convinced that Jeno is an angel, anyway. How else would he be here, so beautiful and perfect and _lovely,_ in Jaemin’s hotel room in Tokyo? He’s even more convinced when the sun goes down and Jeno is still here, in his bed and in his arms. Is god testing him?

“Jeno, you know I have to work tomorrow.” Jeno tsks and rearranges himself in Jaemin’s arms.

“I know. And you know I’m not missing a night sharing a bed with you if I can help it, right?” 

Jaemin pauses. He’s not usually one to risk fucking everything up by trying to put a label on things (hence his rocky relationship history— He wouldn’t say he’s scared of commitment, but he’s also not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and unfortunately, usually that doesn’t work in his favor), especially in a foreign country on a work trip, but for once he doesn’t care. “Where is this going?” 

Jeno shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know, but whatever it is… I just want to be with you,” he finishes. 

“Me too,” Jaemin says softly. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wonders if he’s going to fall in love with Jeno. Then he wonders if he already has. “Stay, okay?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” Jeno reponds, and then he presses Jaemin into the sheets, takes his clothes off and rides him until they both pass out from exhaustion.

⭑

Monday, 6:15 a.m. 

It’s early when Jaemin’s alarm goes off, and it takes a moment for his foggy head to realize where the obnoxious sound is coming from. It takes even longer for him to remember what it’s for. Jeno has his back pressed up against Jaemin’s chest, Jaemin’s face tucked neatly into Jeno’s shoulder, and he has to roll onto his back as he gets his bearings. He reaches randomly for his phone, his hand roaming all over the nightstand until his fingers wrap around the cheap plastic of his phone case. He turns it off without even looking at the screen.

Jeno turns over and cuddles back up against him, pressing his face into Jaemin’s chest. 

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, making several more noises of unhappiness, and Jaemin glances down at him adoringly.

“I have to work, baby,” he answers softly, and Jeno’s whining quiets. Jaemin runs his fingers absent-mindedly through Jeno’s hair.

“Don’t go,” Jeno begs quietly, still curled into Jaemin’s side and not looking at him, and Jaemin is already considering it. 

“I have to…”

Jeno raises his head to blink sleepily at him. “No you don’t,” he rasps, and Jaemin swallows. Jeno buries his face back in Jaemin’s chest. 

“You’re a terrible influence, you know?” Jaemin chuckles, and Jeno huffs out a laugh without moving. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. Jaemin has already made up his mind. 

Jaemin grabs his phone, dialing a few numbers and raising it to his ear. When the line picks up, he clears his throat a little and makes his voice sound as gruff as possible. “Hey, boss. I’ve just come down with something— Not sure what, but it’s nasty. I’m hoping to go back to work ASAP but I can’t make any promises.” It’s quiet as his boss rambles back, voice dripping with concern, telling him to get his rest and call her if he needs anything. Jaemin thanks her and hangs up, then he shuts his phone off and throws it into the drawer of his nightstand. He doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt. 

Jeno smiles into Jaemin’s chest and Jaemin can feel it. 

“Softie,” he mumbles, and Jaemin laughs.

“I guess so,” he replies, and then he closes his eyes again.

Five days. They spend five days together, at the risk of Jaemin’s job, which he calls in sick to on not only Monday, but Tuesday _and_ Wednesday. Five days of bliss, in Jaemin’s opinion, and hopefully Jeno’s too. 

It’s five days of lounging in between a lot of fucking, and eventually, it turns into love-making. 

It doesn’t take long for Jaemin to fall in love with Jeno. It takes even less time for Jeno to fall in love back.

⭑

Wednesday, 11:57 p.m.

It’s beautiful, this charade of no responsibilities or burdens, this stunning performance in which they both star, as equally love-struck fools who can ignore the outside world as long as they get to stay together. This honeymoon period has been perfect and wonderful and everything good, but they both know it has to end soon. The world doesn’t bend itself to the will of two star-crossed lovers who have too much to lose.

This crosses Jaemin’s mind when they’re lying in bed together, Jaemin’s arms around Jeno’s waist, and he finally says what he’s been thinking for days.

“There’s something here, Jeno,” he says softly, and he lets Jeno interpret that however he wants. 

“I know,” Jeno says, keeping his head tucked into Jaemin’s shoulder, “I know.”

“I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. Ever.”

“Neither have I,” Jeno responds, and now he sits up, sitting cross-legged across from Jaemin, who props himself up on one arm. “Maybe we’re soulmates.” He says it like he’s joking, but he’s not, and neither is Jaemin. 

“Maybe,” Jaemin says, reaching to brush a piece of hair out of Jeno’s eyes. It’s quiet for a beat. “Probably.”

Jeno drops his gaze when it gets to be too much, but he grabs one of Jaemin’s hands, squeezing it gently. He seems to be thinking hard about something, and then his eyes light up. “I want to look at the stars,” he says suddenly, and then he’s climbing out of bed, rummaging through Jaemin’s drawers until he finds a sweatshirt that he wants to wear. He grabs the zip-up Jaemin has been wearing for a couple days and pulls Jaemin up, dragging him out of bed and handing it to him. “Let’s go. I want to see the stars.” Jaemin is looking at him with a mixture of bewilderment and admiration, and Jeno rolls his eyes, trying to tamp down the flames that curl up in his stomach seeing Jaemin staring at him like _that_.

“I think you might be a little crazy,” Jaemin says, but he says it adoringly, and Jeno makes a face at him.

“Maybe, but you love me.” He says it casually, the way he’d say it to his friend or a family member, and it takes him a moment to realize that Jaemin is neither of those things, and the word _love_ is… A big deal. Certainly not something you usually say to someone who may as well be a stranger. But Jaemin doesn’t feel like a stranger, not in the slightest. He feels familiar, more comforting and homey than anyone he’s known his whole life. Regardless, that four-letter word hangs in the air like a thunder cloud, and Jeno is too scared to hear what comes next. His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s just said, and Jaemin seems surprised too. But then he answers him.

“I think I do,” he says quietly, and then he pulls the jacket on, grabbing Jeno’s hand and leading him out the door.

They aren’t technically allowed to be on the roof, but they find an emergency exit with a broken alarm and sneak out that way. They might be in Tokyo, but to Jaemin’s immense surprise, they’re high enough that they can see the stars decently enough. Jeno takes Jaemin’s hand, leaning up against his side as they stare up at them together. 

“Promise me if I say the stars are beautiful you won’t pull some cheesy shit, okay?” Jaemin seems surprised by Jeno’s sudden comment and glances down at him. Jeno just grins.

“I won’t,” Jaemin says, and Jeno turns back to the sky. 

“They really are beautiful,” he muses.

“So are you.”

Jeno whips his head around, narrowing his eyes at Jaemin. “Jaem! You promised!” 

Jaemin laughs, letting go of Jeno’s hand and raising his hands in mock-surrender when Jeno tries to whack him in the chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I just couldn’t help it,” he coos, getting all up in Jeno’s personal space again and wrapping his arms around Jeno’s waist. 

“Fucking gross,” Jeno says, looking away hautily, but Jaemin knows he’s holding back a laugh.

“It’s true~,” Jaemin croons, “You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I must be the luckiest boy in the whole world.” His compliment works, because Jeno blushes, and Jaemin smiles. “You are,” he murmurs, placing his face just a little too close, tempting Jeno just a little too much. Jeno grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. 

Jeno pushes his hands up Jaemin’s shirt immediately, letting his hands wander wonderfully, and Jaemin lets him, electing to grab Jeno’s ass and pull him closer that way. When Jaemin slips his tongue into Jeno’s mouth, Jeno pulls away, his eyes shining just as bright as when he thought of the stars earlier, and he presses his forehead against Jaemin’s. 

“I want you,” Jeno whispers. “I want you right here, right now.”

“Babe…” Jaemin trails off because he doesn’t know what to say, but he knows he certainly can’t say no.

“I want you to take me right here, Jaemin, on this rooftop, under the stars. Now. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Jesus,” Jaemin mumbles, “Okay. Okay.” He glances around said rooftop, trying to work out the best way to go about this, and Jeno tugs on his sleeve. 

“Just do it here,” Jeno demands, “Fuck, Jaemin, I don’t care. If you meant what you said earlier then give yourself to me. I want it so bad, Jaemin. I want you so bad.” 

Jaemin feels every muscle in his body tense and then relax at once, something warm and fuzzy washing over him as he takes in Jeno’s words. “Okay,” he responds as he turns them around. Luckily for him, or for Jeno, or for both of them, the hotel has a cement wall around the perimeter that they’d be able to lean on and look over the city if they weren’t so concerned with shoving their tongues down one another’s throats. Jaemin presses Jeno gently against the wall, silently undoing Jeno’s jeans, pulling them down a few inches, and then his own. Something strikes him, and he cups Jeno’s face in his hand, because of course he has to double-check.

“Jen, I don’t have a condom,” he says gently, and he hardly gets those words out before Jeno says “I don’t fucking care. Let me feel all of you.”

“Of course,” Jaemin whispers, “But lube?”

Jeno shrugs. “Just spit on your dick or something. I’ve worked with less, I’ll be fine. I promise.” Jaemin believes him.

“God, Jeno,” he says, and he shakes his head but he spits into his hand anyway.

When Jaemin finally pushes inside Jeno, they let out a unanimous groan. Somehow, despite the drastic lack of lube and the odd location and awkward position, it feels perfect. 

“Thank you,” Jeno mumbles, and Jaemin leans close to whisper in his ear, “Anything for you.” Jeno gasps and bites down on Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin fucks him slow and sweet, for everyone and no one to see, and Jeno has never felt so euphoric. He’s on top of the world, literally and emotionally, with Jaemin by his side. It’s all he needs.

When Jaemin finally cums, Jeno is a fucked-out wreck, relying completely on the wall and Jaemin to support him. Jaemin warns him before he cums, and Jeno chokes out “I want it, I want it,” so Jaemin gives it to him. Jeno has never been _filled_ before, not like this, because he’s strict with clients when it comes to protection and finishing. Jaemin has broken all of his rules, but even if Jeno hadn’t asked him to, he would have let him.

Jeno kisses Jaemin lazily afterwards, lackadaisical and worn out, and he almost wishes he could stay here with Jaemin forever. Jaemin knows he’s tired, and he lets Jeno have his fill of kissing him, keeping his mouth open and pliant for anything Jeno wants with him. When Jeno gets too sloppy, too sleepy, Jaemin pulls out of him carefully, fixing both of their pants and gathering Jeno in his arms. He carries him back inside, thanking his obnoxiously large amount of gym-hours, and by the time he gets them both back inside Jeno is nearly asleep. He manages to convince Jeno to change into pajamas and brush his teeth (they had to buy a toothbrush from the hotel lobby), and as soon as he’s done with that he throws himself back into bed, facedown. Jaemin watches him amusedly as he brushes his own teeth, and because habits die hard, even if they’re decidedly new, Jeno wraps himself around Jaemin as soon as his head hits the pillow. Jaemin strokes his hair absentmindedly, and he’s pretty sure that Jeno has fallen asleep until he hears his voice again.

“I wish it could be like this forever,” Jeno whispers, and Jaemin doesn’t know what to say. There’s a gross, uncomfortable feeling creeping over him, something ice cold that reminds him that Jeno can’t be his forever and he has a job and as much as he’d like for this to go on without end, it just can’t happen.

“Me too,” Jaemin murmurs back, and he pulls Jeno a little closer, holds onto him a little tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Jeno says quietly, like he can read Jaemin’s mind, and Jaemin tries to believe him.

⭑

Thursday, 7:03 a.m.

When Jeno wakes up Thursday morning, it’s not to an alarm. It’s to the sound of Jaemin shuffling around the room, getting ready for work, Jeno supposes. Jeno sits up and rubs his eyes, and Jaemin turns around at the sound of the sheets rustling.

“I have to go back to work,” Jaemin says regretfully before Jeno can get a word out, and Jeno gives him a small smile. 

“I know,” he says, “I’m sorry for keeping you from it.”

Jaemin smiles and pauses in the middle of knotting his tie. “It’s okay. I probably would have called in even if you hadn’t told me to. I wanted to be with you. I still do.” Jeno nods, and Jaemin turns back to the mirror, straightening his tie. 

“When will you be back?”

“Around seven, probably.” 

Jeno wrinkles his nose. “That doesn’t sound like a nine-to-five.”

Jaemin shrugs. “It’s just how it is, I guess. It’s not like they don’t pay me.” 

Jeno is quiet as Jaemin finishes adjusting his tie and gathers his stuff. Jaemin kisses him on the forehead before he heads toward the door, pausing before he opens it. 

“I left one of my cards on the nightstand. You can use it for whatever, but please eat. I’ll be back later tonight and I’ll take you out, like on a proper date. Okay?” 

Jeno nods, and Jaemin nods back, but he can’t find it in him to leave. There’s something crackling in the air between them, but Jaemin doesn’t know what. He gets the uncomfortable feeling that he’s missing something, like there’s a disconnect here. 

“I’ll see you later,” Jaemin says eventually, and Jeno just sends him another nod. 

Jaemin closes the door carefully behind him, and he starts his trek down the impossibly long hallways of the hotel. Is he being crazy, or is there something Jeno isn’t telling him? Is he reading too much into the situation, or is Jeno acting a little strange? _I don’t know him that well,_ Jaemin tries to rationalize with himself, but he doesn’t really believe that. He doesn’t believe that at all. Even though they’ve known each other for only two weeks and been together for less than that, he knows Jeno practically better than he knows himself.

He’s startled out of his head when he hears a bang behind him, and he whirls around to find Jeno barrelling toward him so fast that it takes him a couple seconds to register it, and by that time, it’s too late. Jeno jumps up and wraps himself around Jaemin, linking his arms behind Jaemin’s neck and his ankles around Jaemin’s waist, who catches him, luckily, dropping everything just to hold Jeno again. Jeno kisses him hard, more intensely than Jaemin’s ever felt from Jeno in the past five days, and it almost knocks the wind out of him. 

Jeno pulls away and kisses him again on the cheek before jumping down, and now Jaemin _really_ doesn’t want to leave him. 

“What was that about?” 

“I’ll miss you,” Jeno says simply, and Jaemin melts a little. 

“I’ll miss you too, baby. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” 

Jeno bites his lip and nods, and Jaemin casts him one last glance before continuing down the hallway. 

Jeno just watches him go. 

⭑

Thursday, 7:14 p.m.

When Jaemin returns back to his hotel room, he notices immediately that the lights are off. _Odd_ , he thinks to himself, but he puts his key in the door and turns the knob without thinking much else of it.“Jeno? I’m home,” he calls as he steps inside. He turns the light on, and his stomach drops. 

His hotel room is… Strikingly clean. Jaemin already knows what’s happening, but he can’t find it in himself to accept it. Surely Jeno’s clothes are just tucked away somewhere else, surely he just made the bed because he figured it was time to get out of it after spending five days in it with Jaemin, surely Jeno is _somewhere,_ as long as he’s here. He knows he’s full of shit and he doesn’t care, but whatever spark of hope Jaemin had is promptly put out when he spies a nearly folded piece of hotel stationary on the nightstand.

Jaemin already knows what’s inside, but he’s never been quite so terrified as he carefully unfolds the letter and begins to read.

_My dear Jaemin,_

_I’m so sorry that I had to leave you like this, but I was a coward. I was too afraid to tell you that I had to go. You’re amazing, Jaemin, and you’re probably the love of my life, but you know as well as I do that this won’t work. I thought it might, I really did, but that was ignorant of me. We’re from different worlds, Jaemin. I have a responsibility to take care of my family and I have to work in order to do so. You know that I don’t want anyone but you, but the world is a cruel place. I’d stay here with you forever if I didn’t have family counting on me, but I do, and I’m sorry. I knew if I told you this you’d try to help, and I appreciate that, but this is something I have to do on my own._

_Please don’t try to find me. I want to see you again, so much more than you know, but I can’t. We could never work, Jaemin, even though it breaks my heart to say so._

_I love you so much more than you’ll ever know. Anyone else would call me crazy, for saying that after the short amount of time we’ve spent together, but I don't care. Maybe I am crazy, but at least I know what I feel. And I feel nothing but love for you, Jaemin, so much that it feels like my heart could burst. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you in person. I’m bad at feelings and I’m worse at goodbyes. You deserve better than this._

_Maybe someday, some years from now, fate will bring us back together. If we’re meant to be, and I wish with all my heart that we are, we’ll find each other again. But that has to be in the future, Jaemin, not now. We aren’t ready for right now._

_I’ve already said it so many times but I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll never stop thinking about you, I promise. I’ll look for you everywhere, Jaemin, when the time is right._

_I’d tell you not to forget about me, but something tells me you won’t._

_Take care of yourself, Jaemin. I hope we meet again some day._

_Love,_

_your Jeno._

_P.S. I hope you get that promotion, baby. Love you._

_P.P.S. I didn’t mean probably, I meant definitely._

Jaemin sinks down onto the edge of the bed. He’s shaking, and his hands are whiter than the piece of paper Jeno wrote his letter on. He feels vaguely ill, and he thinks that he should have saved his sick days for now. He reads over Jeno’s note again and again and again, so much that he’s surprised his eyes haven’t bored holes in the page, and then he falls onto his back. The sheets still smell like Jeno, and it makes him want to sob. 

“I love you too,” Jaemin whispers to the empty room, and he hopes with his foolish, lovesick heart, that Jeno feels it somehow.

⭑

Saturday, 11:27 p.m.

_Six weeks later._

Tokyo is 25 km long and 90 km wide, littered with hundreds— Probably thousands— Of bars. 

It takes Jaemin more than a month to get through two hundred of them. 

He’s insane, probably. There’s no reason for him to be doing this. But Jeno ran from him that night, and Jaemin went back to the club they met at every night for two weeks before he realized Jeno wasn’t coming back. So he set out to find him, despite Jeno’s incredibly frank instructions not to do so. Jaemin will respect any and all of Jeno’s wishes, but not this. Anything but this.

He doesn’t know what’s compelling him to continue this stake-out for Jeno, but he needs to find him. If he leaves Tokyo without seeing him again, well, he doesn’t know. He knows Jeno was supposed to be a one-night stand in a foreign city. You don’t try to make a relationship out of a fling in a different country, no matter how romantic, no matter how enthralling. And yet, Jaemin can try. 

_He’s a prostitute_ , Jaemin reminds himself, _You’re crazy. He doesn’t want to see you again._ He tells himself this every day, but it doesn’t help. He knows that Jeno’s occupation has nothing to do with what the two of them have, just like he knows that Jeno _does_ want to see him again, and Jaemin will do anything in his power to make that happen. They’re in love, plain and simple, but nothing is ever simple.

Jaemin wanders into his fifth bar of the evening, his body moving robotically through the same series of motions that he goes through every night. His routine is the same. Go to the bar, order the exact same drink, proceed to drink none of it, seek out Jeno, leave. Rinse and repeat. Jaemin has nearly lost all hope. And yet, that spark in him just won’t die. There’s been a fire inside him ever since Jeno left him. Today is a particularly important day, though, because Jaemin is leaving tomorrow and he’s never been more determined, more _dedicated_ to anything in his life. He resigns himself to his fate, though, because that’s exactly what he believes is driving this. If fate wants him and Jeno to be together, then he’ll see him again.

When he walks into this bar, it’s different. Jaemin feels every hair on his body stand up, every cell in his body alert, because the _energy_ in this bar feels familiar and terrifying and compelling all at the same time, and he knows he’s in the right place. A bell rings when he enters, which isn’t unusual of most bars, but when that ringing happens, almost like in slow motion, he sees a face turn toward the door.

It’s him.

They lock eyes, and Jeno turns pale.

Then he bolts.

“Fuck,” Jaemin says outloud, and then he shoves his way through the crowd. 

Jeno’s hair is black now, and it suits him beautifully, but Jaemin does not need to be worrying about that right now. He spills a few drinks, he gets a few nasty looks (and a couple insults) but nothing matters because he needs to get to Jeno. He can see Jeno leave out the back door, and Jaemin is there in seconds, but he’s not fast enough. The door opens into an alleyway, and Jaemin isn’t sure which way he should go, but then he hears a clanging noise to his left and turns that way.

“Jeno,” Jaemin calls, and Jeno looks behind him for a second before he continues sprinting away from him. 

Jeno is fast, but Jaemin can cover more ground and he catches him quickly. He grabs onto Jeno’s arm, pulling him to a halt, and Jeno whirls around dazedly. 

“Let go of me, Jaemin,” he warns, eyes wide and a little panicked. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Jeno, please,” Jaemin begs, and he’s not sure what he’s asking for but he’s desperate anyway. For some reason, it works, and Jeno stops struggling, staring at Jaemin’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“What do you want?” Jeno asks quietly, after a while, not meeting Jaemin’s eyes. What _does_ he want? He’s had six weeks to think about this, and now that Jeno is in his sights and his reach, what he wants seems like too much.

“Jeno, I don’t— I… Why did you leave?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Jaemin blinks at him. That fucking _stings_ , and he can tell that beneath Jeno’s somewhat off-putting demeanor, it hurts him too. “I can give you plenty of reasons.”

“And I can give you one. I’m a prostitute, Jaemin. I’m a streetwalker. A hooker. A whore. A—”

“Jeno, stop,” Jaemin pleads. “Stop calling yourself that.”

“Why? It’s my job, Jaemin. I’m a fuck for hire, not a boyfriend.”

Jaemin sighs. “Can we go somewhere and talk about this?”

Jeno looks skeptical. “You’re not going to be able to convince me that I—”

“Jeno, it’s fine. I understand. But I leave tomorrow, and I just want to be with you. For just one more night, I want to be with you. Please.”

“Tomorrow?” Jeno whispers. Jaemin nods. 

“Tomorrow at three. I’ll be gone forever after that. Just please, give me this one night.”

“Okay,” Jeno says.

They end up in Jaemin’s hotel room all over again. Jaemin sits on the edge of an armchair and Jeno paces, tracing his fingers over the top of the bookshelf, the windowsill, the desktop. It’s a while before anyone says anything. 

“Why did you leave?” Jaemin asks again, and Jeno continues on pacing like he didn’t hear him. 

“I had to,” Jeno says eventually. “Being in love isn’t good for business.” Now, he turns to look at Jaemin, finally stopping his trek around the room. 

“You should have told me,” Jaemin whispers, and he’s talking about ten things at once, and Jeno seems to understand that.

“I know. You deserved better than that. But I couldn’t, Jaemin, because I knew that you’d be able to convince me to stay so easily, and I just had to go.”

“But why? I know your reasons, I’ve thought about them for weeks, Jeno, but they don’t make any sense. We aren’t impossible. Or at least, we wouldn’t have been, but you left, and now… Maybe you’re right.” Jeno freezes, and Jaemin sighs. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

“No, you’re right. Maybe we could have made it work, maybe, but I fucked it up, and deep down, you know I’m right. I was just trying to minimize the hurt.”

“But you didn’t.” Jeno swallows and looks away. “Jeno, just, please, baby. Please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Jeno…”

“You never treated me differently,” Jeno muses, almost to himself.

Jaemin blinks. “Different from what?” 

“When I told you what I was. What I am. I lied, Jaemin. I knew you didn’t have a clue that I was a prostitute, because I made you believe I wasn’t. I don’t know why. The first time I saw you, at that bar, I just… I don’t know. I need something, I needed someone to… God, what am I saying. I sound crazy. I didn’t even know you, but all I wanted was to make you like me.”

Jaemin cracks a half-smile. “You didn’t have to work very hard to do that. And you’re not crazy, and Jeno, how could I treat you differently? You were the same, are the same Jeno. Always. No matter what you do for a living. No matter what you tell me about yourself.”

“I thought you might leave,” Jeno admits, and Jaemin blanches. 

“Why?”

“Why not? I led you on for a week, making you believe I was any other guy, but I’m not, and you still stayed. You still loved me.” 

And maybe this is what hurts the most of all, because even through his actions and words and not-quite-but-almost confession, Jaemin never fully admitted that to himself or to Jeno. But Jeno knew, all along, that Jaemin loved him, and that he loved him back, and he still left. He still ran.

“I still love you now,” Jaemin pleads. “I’ll always love you, Jeno. No matter how much distance or time is between us. You can’t change that, even if you try. You know this.”

“I do,” Jeno admits, “And that’s why I had to go. You would have been able to make me stay, and I don’t know what that would have done to us. To each of us, individually.”

“We could have worked it out,” Jaemin insists, “We could have. I could have figured something out. We could have done it, together, if you’d just let us try.” 

Jeno seems to consider this for a moment. “All I am to anyone is a body,” he whispers eventually, stepping closer to Jaemin. “Until you. No one’s ever treated me like you do. No one’s never spoken to me, no one’s ever touched me, no one’s ever fucked me like you do.”

“Because I love you,” Jaemin says back, equally as quiet, and Jeno gives him a rueful smile.

“I wish things could be different.”

“They can be,” Jaemin insists, “They can. Come back with me. Go back to Korea with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll do anything, if you would just—”

“Jaemin, my family is here. I need to support them. They rely on me. I can’t go.”

“I’ll help! I can give you money, I can rent an apartment, anything, Jeno, I’ll do it for you.”

Jeno shakes his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me to do anything! I’m asking _you_. Jeno, let me help you. I need you.” He swallows. “You need me.” 

“Jaemin, I can’t.” Jaemin reaches for him, opening his mouth to say something, but Jeno puts a finger on his lips. “Please, Jaemin. I can’t talk about this anymore. Let me have you for just one more night.” He grabs Jaemin’s hands, placing them on his waist before he cups Jaemin’s face in his hands. There are so many things swimming in Jaemin’s eyes, and Jeno can’t stand it. He closes his own eyes, sitting in Jaemin’s lap and wrapping his ankles around Jaemin’s waist. He dares to open them again once he’s settled down, meeting Jaemin’s gaze with his own, only inches apart. Jeno tangles his fingers in Jaemin’s hair and Jaemin’s eyes flutter closed. 

“You have all of me, always,” Jaemin murmurs, and it makes Jeno want to cry.

“Stop talking,” Jeno says, trying to sound demanding and flippant, but it comes out more as a plea. Regardless, Jaemin keeps his mouth shut, in terms of speaking. It hurts him just as much as it hurts Jeno to know that whatever he says, he can’t change anything. He can’t fix this. 

When they finally end up in Jaemin’s bed again, it feels all wrong and all right at the same time. They both know that it shouldn’t be like this, but it _is_ , and there’s nothing they can do about it. 

For a moment, Jaemin lets himself pretend that Jeno is his. He lets himself pretend that they’ll be together, the way it’s meant to be, the way it _should_ be. He pretends that Jeno is all his, only his. He doesn’t have to pretend to be all Jeno’s. To be only Jeno’s. 

“I love you,” Jaemin says quietly when he cums, deep inside Jeno, who sobs. 

“Jaemin, Jaemin, I love you too,” Jeno chokes, and Jaemin wipes the tears under his eyes with his thumbs. Nothing has ever hurt more than this.

Jeno falls asleep curled up in Jaemin’s arms, but Jaemin both can’t and won’t sleep. He doesn’t want to waste a single second he has left with Jeno, so he stays awake for hours, playing with Jeno’s hair and listening to him breathe.

Jeno stirs awake at some wee hours of the morning, looking around groggily before meeting Jaemin’s gaze, his eyes filling with tears immediately. Jaemin kisses each and every tear off his face, rubbing his sides soothingly and doing his best to calm Jeno down.

Eventually, they make love once more, intertwined and synchronous, as the sun rises. This time, they both cry. 

Jaemin passes out almost as soon as they’re finished, not even bothering to pull out or clean them up, because he doesn’t want to be apart from Jeno for even a second. He doesn’t want to sleep, either, but his exhaustion gets the best of him and he can’t help it. 

Jeno lets himself enjoy a few more bittersweet moments with Jaemin before he knows he has to go. It’s silly, but feeling Jaemin slip out of him for what he thinks might be the last time nearly sets him off crying again. He holds it together long enough to clean himself and Jaemin off and gather what little of his things he has lying around the hotel room. He closes the door as quietly as he can behind him. He doesn’t look back. 

Jeno collapses on a bench at a bus stop, and he finally lets go. He cries freely, and he doesn’t care that some people walk by and cast him confused and pitying looks. He pulls Jaemin’s jacket over him— He feels a little guilty for taking it without asking, but he knows Jaemin won’t mind, and he needs something to remember him by. He shoves his hands in the pockets, and he feels something hard in one of them, and he panics. He pulls it out, and it’s clearly a credit card, wrapped neatly in a piece of lined paper. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to read whatever Jaemin has written, but he doesn’t care. 

_Jeno, baby,_

_Two can play this game. I knew you’d take something of mine and I hope that it was this. You aren’t predictable in the slightest, darling, but something told me this would work._

_I did some research, and there should be enough loaded onto that card to pay for 18 months of rent in a decent apartment downtown. I know you’re probably pissed, but please don’t be. I don’t need the money— You said it yourself, I’m too young to be doing this white collar shit. I had already saved up money for my last year of college, but when the company paid for it, I suddenly had this chunk of leftover money I didn’t know what to do with, until now._

_This isn’t charity, baby. It can’t be charity if there are emotions involved. I’m not doing this out of pity or anything of the sort, I’m doing this because I love you and I’m not very good at showing it. Have you ever heard of the five love languages? I didn’t buy into that shit before, but I guess now I know what mine is._

_If you’re still mad, then just think of it as me paying you for your services. That’s the last way that I would want this money to get to you, but if it makes you feel better about accepting it, then so be it. Honestly, if you accept this, you’ll be doing_ me _a favor._

_You already know that I love you, but it feels unfair to let you stumble across this note without me saying it again. I love you so much, Jeno. I always will. Sometimes I feel like I always have. I won’t ever stop loving you, because I couldn’t if I tried. Remember that._

_Don’t be sad, darling. I’ll find you again, I promise, even if it takes years._

_If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me._

_Love you the most,_

_your Jaemin._

The letter has clearly never been unfolded, but the creases are worn and the paper is slightly wrinkled, and Jeno realizes that Jaemin wrote this the day he left him and has held onto it ever since. He feels like he’s suffocating, all of a sudden, because he knows Jaemin and Jaemin knows him. Jaemin looked for him everywhere, in every single damn bar in Tokyo, always in this jacket and always with this note. He isn’t sure what hurts more— The fact that Jaemin was out looking for him every single night, even though Jeno left him, or the fact that Jaemin knew that if they had another encounter, it would end like this. Completely hopeless and heartbreaking, with Jeno leaving him once again. And yet, he kept looking. He kept trying. 

Jeno cries himself dry, and when he’s finally calmed down enough that he can take two steps without bursting into tears, he goes home. He can’t work tonight. Even if he wanted to and was emotionally stable enough to do so, it feels too disrespectful to Jaemin, and to himself, honestly. Besides, the idea of anyone touching him who isn’t Jaemin is both frightening and sickening, and somewhere in the back of Jeno’s mind he thinks he should reconsider how he makes money.

It doesn’t feel like it should end like this: Jaemin on a plane and Jeno locked in his room, each of them leaving a piece of themselves with the other, but it isn’t enough. And yet, it does. It ends and it ends and Jeno breaks and breaks and he hopes beyond hope that somehow, Jaemin knows that he’s falling to pieces without him.

On a plane, thousands of meters in the air, Jaemin breaks, too.

⭑

Wednesday, 3:25 p.m.

 _One month later_.

Jaemin is quite literally a shell of the person he used to be. With nothing left to live for besides his job, he throws himself completely and utterly into his work, shutting out most friends and family. He’s being stupid and selfish and _pathetic,_ but he doesn’t care. He’s more or less a robot, and even though he’s excelling in his field and impressing all of his superiors and knows he should be proud, he can’t feel a thing. He’s forgotten how it feels to be a person. Perhaps it has something to do with the soul-crushing reality of knowing that the one person you’re meant to be with is somewhere else, living their life away from you.

It’s a cruel thing, to know love and have it ripped so violently away from you.

There’s a tap on Jaemin’s door, and he mumbles “Come in!” without looking up. His secretary (he has a whole ass _secretary_ now, thanks, business trip to Tokyo), pokes her head in, looking a bit terrified. Jaemin can’t blame her. He’s alternated between being a grouch or moping around ever since he’s returned home, and he feels a little bad. She’s just doing her job. Not bad enough to get his act together, though, because he can’t be bothered to be nice to anyone. 

“Yes?” he asks flatly, because she’s clearly waiting for his approval to speak (probably doesn’t want to risk him chewing her out for no reason again), and she gives him a timid smile. He turns back to his computer monitor because he doesn’t have it in him to return it.

“You have, uh, a visitor, Mister Na.”

“I don’t want to see anyone right now, take a message,” Jaemin responds, not looking up from his screen. 

His secretary doesn’t leave. 

“Is there something else?” Jaemin asks, clearly impatient, and she flinches a little. 

“Well, sir, it’s just… I think you want to see him.”

This makes Jaemin freeze. “Who?” he asks carefully. “Did he give you a name?”

“No, but… He said to give you this.” She tiptoes over to Jaemin’s desk, placing a postcard in his hand. It’s a satellite view of Tokyo, and his Japanese still isn’t great, but he can read ‘Wish you were here!’ in red, printed on the front. He flips it over, but it’s blank on the back. 

He gets the distinct feeling that he’s drowning, and he feels vaguely terrified. Does he dare to hope?

“Where is he?” Jaemin asks, rising to his feet. 

“He said he had something important and… Private for you, so I set him up in our secondary meeting room. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” Jaemin says over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. “Can you tell anyone who calls that I’m out?” He doesn’t wait for a response. The second he’s out of everyone’s sight, Jaemin breaks out into a sprint, speeding down the hallways and coming to an abrupt halt outside the closed door of the secondary meeting room. There’s a tiny window, but Jaemin doesn’t think he’s brave enough to look. He’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help it. His brain simultaneously warns him not to get his hopes up that it’s Jeno _and_ tells him that if it’s not, Jaemin is going to die. Jaemin hopes it’s the first option.

He knocks lightly, and he hears a murmur from inside that he can’t make out. Regardless, he pushes the door open, holding his breath.

It’s him. Jaemin doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. So he does both.

“Jeno,” he says tearily, and it feels good to say that again, to let Jeno’s name leave his lips for only the two of them to hear. “Jeno, Jeno.” Jeno raises to his feet, and he’s crying too. 

“Jaemin,” he says back, choking back more tears, and in a flash Jaemin engulfs him in a hug.

“You came,” Jaemin says incredulously, “You fucking came to Korea. Oh my god. Jeno, baby. You’re here, you’re actually here. You came back to me.”

“I had to,” Jeno responds, nuzzling his face into Jaemin’s neck, “I had to. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was even worse than the first time.” He pulls away to look up at Jaemin, and Jaemin cups Jeno’s face in his hands. “Being apart from you ruined me,” Jeno whispers, and Jaemin wants to apologize, but for what? It ruined him just as much, and besides, they’re together now. Nothing else matters.

“What about…?” Jaemin doesn’t really know what to ask. What about his work? His family? His life?

“It doesn’t matter,” Jeno interrupts, “It doesn’t matter. We can talk about it later. I just needed to be with you. I need to.” He smiles and Jaemin smiles back. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jaemin asks, and Jeno laughs. 

“You don’t have to ask. You don’t, not ever again. Please, Jaemin.”

“Thank god,” Jaemin says, but he’s grinning. 

“Hurry,” Jeno urges, “I flew all the way here and it’s been three minutes we’ve been together and you haven’t kissed me once.”

When their lips finally touch again, Jaemin can hear his heartbeat in his ears and the air around them is so _electrified_ that Jaemin thinks just a spark would set the room ablaze. Jeno kisses him like he means it, and he does, his kiss full of ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ and ‘ _I love you_.’ Jaemin wants to fucking swallow him whole. 

They’re a little too handsy, a little too _excited_ for them to still be inside Jaemin’s place of employment. Jaemin has half a mind to take Jeno right here on the table, but after all that work for this promotion, he’s not too keen on getting fired. 

“Jaem—” Jeno gasps, pulling away and cupping Jaemin’s face in his hands. They both know what they’re each thinking.

“Not here,” Jaemin pants, and Jeno nods. 

They make love passionately in the back of Jaemin’s car, because they’re too impatient to drive home. Jaemin lays Jeno down gently on the back seat, and as soon as he can, Jeno wraps his arms around Jaemin’s neck and says “Jaemin, I love you.”

“I love you so much, Jeno,” Jaemin responds, and after that it’s just a flash of hands and lips and tongue. 

Jeno whispers in Jaemin’s ear to “ _Fuck me like you mean it,_ ” and Jaemin does, fucking him like it’s their last time, though he prays to all that is good and holy that it is not. It feels wonderful and perfect and godsent, and they both know that all along, this is how it was meant to be. The two of them, together, in any country, in any capacity. Just as long as they’re _together_. 

After, they bask in the post-sex haze for maybe too long, still tangled together, but Jaemin has gone far too long without Jeno underneath him and he’s not very keen on separating their bodies any sooner than he has to. For a while they don’t say much, because there’s not much to say. All the ‘ _I love yous'_ in the world wouldn’t be enough, and besides, they both know.

“I have to tell you something,” Jeno pipes up after a while, and Jaemin hums to show him he’s listening. “I lied,” Jeno says, and Jaemin gives him a questioning look. “When I told you I lost my virginity… I lied. I lost my virginity to some random guy who paid me a hundred bucks. You were my first, Jaemin. As far as I’m concerned, you were my first.” He smiles at Jaemin and kisses him on the nose. “And my only.” 

Jaemin is… Overwhelmed by that, to say the least, and he’s not sure why it hurts so bad hearing Jeno say that. He just hates to think of Jeno being _used_ , even though he knows Jeno doesn’t think of it that way. Maybe it’s _him_ that needs to get it together. Maybe he’s just possessive because the thought of Jeno being touched by anyone but him makes him see red.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jeno says, reading everything on Jaemin’s face like a book, “Jaemin, please don’t be sad. I told you because I felt like I owed it to you to be honest. And I wanted you to know.”

“But—” Jeno kisses Jaemin to get him to stop talking, rubbing his hands soothingly on Jaemin’s arms. 

“Jaemin, listen to me. Everything is fine. Do you believe me?”

Jaemin nods. 

“Good. Now listen. Do I wish that I had met you when I was nineteen and given myself up to you then? Sure, but I would have been nineteen and you would have been nineteen and we’d be stupid and foolish and probably never talk again after that. If I hadn’t been doing what I was doing, I never would have met you. Think about it, Jaem. Of all the people in the world, out of all the places, you landed right in my lap in _Tokyo._ I know you think we’re soulmates, and I do too. And I know you believe in fate. Don’t be sad. Remember what you told me when I left, in your letter?”

“Don’t be sad, darling,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno smiles. 

“Exactly. I really mean it, Jaemin. I don’t care about whatever happened before I met you. There was before, and there was after. And all I care about is after. As long as I’m with you, and we get to be together, loving each other, I’m happy.” 

Jaemin is staring at him like he’s _god_ or something, and Jeno blushes. “God, will you stop— You’re practically _drooling,_ Jaem, stop it right now before I fly back to Tokyo.”

“Jeno,” Jaemin says, and there’s something in his voice that makes Jeno shiver.

“Yes?”

“ _Jeno_.”

“ _Yes_ , Jaem?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Jeno scoffs, his face taking on an air of “ _I know that, stupid_ ,” but of course it makes him blush anyway. 

“I’m in love with you too—”

“No, listen. I’m so fucking in love with you and I want to marry you and have a zillion kids with you and live in a fucking ridiculously oversized house together and do stupid shit like write little notes to one another and put them in our lunches before work. I want to adopt a dog together and name him something stupid like _Tokyo_ because we’re fucking cheesy. I want to have boring full time jobs that we can complain about over dinner that we both secretly enjoy. I want to bring you to my stupid, boring work Christmas parties and introduce you to everyone as my boyfriend or my fiancé or my husband or whatever you want. I want to spoil you when I feel like it and I want to go on dates and argue over who gets to pay. I want to spend rainy days with you and fight over dumb shit when we’re both stressed out because we know that we’ll always love each other. I want you to meet my family and have to deal with my overbearing grandparents and my slightly homophobic but endearing uncle. I want to fly back to Tokyo and meet your family, too, and then I want to fly them back out here for the wedding. I want to be able to kiss you and touch you and fuck you whenever you want, and I want to know that I have you always, no matter what.” He’s almost out of breath by the time he finishes, staring determined into Jeno’s eyes, and Jeno immediately starts to tear up. 

“Oh, Jaemin—”

“Don’t start crying again! I just want you to know that I’m in this for life with you, Jeno. Forever and always. You won’t be able to get rid of me even if you try.”

“Of course, Jaemin, of course. Always.” Jeno gets teary-eyed despite Jaemin’s protests, and Jaemin kisses him until he stops.

Eventually, because people from Jaemin’s office are going to start to leave soon, they have to get dressed haphazardly and climb into the front seats of Jaemin’s car. Jeno doesn’t have to ask where they’re going, because he knows. He looks out the window, taking everything in, and Jaemin puts his hand on his thigh as he drives. It’s been so long since Jeno has been in Korea, and though everything is unfamiliar, it feels strangely familiar, too, because anything that’s part of Jaemin is part of him, too.

Frankly, Jeno thinks they could drive and drive and end up nowhere and he wouldn’t care. As long as he’s in the same space as Jaemin, breathing the same air and _touching_ , he doesn’t care where they are or where they go. All that matters is being together.

“Hey, Jeno?”

“Yeah?”

Jeno turns to look at him, and Jaemin does the same, until Jeno shrieks “Keep your eyes on the road, Jaemin, you’ll hit someone!”

“Sorry,” Jaemin says sheepishly, and he casts Jeno one more glance before he turns back to the road. “What is it?”

“If we get a dog, we are _not_ naming it Tokyo.”

⭑

Friday, 10:14 p.m.

 _Three years later_.

“How about Laos?”

Jeno makes a face. “What the fuck is in Laos?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “A lot of things. Seriously, Jen, I’m running out of options here.”

“I know,” Jeno says, and he gets up from the couch, situating himself in Jaemin’s lap at the dining room table. “You know, we could always go back to Tokyo.”

Jaemin is quiet for a moment. “You really want to?”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s just an idea. I know there’s a lot of… Trauma there, but it’s where we met. It’s where we fell in love. We could make new memories, erase the bad ones.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jaemin admits after a moment. “But only if you’re sure.”

Jeno gets out of Jaemin’s lap, gently closing the lid to Jaemin’s laptop and pulling him to his feet. “I’m sure,” he says, “But I need you to stop looking for honeymoon destinations and pay attention to me. We have plenty of time before the wedding.” At the mention of the wedding, Jaemin winces. 

“Jen, you know, we still have to pick out flowers. And we haven’t even decided on a menu!”

Jeno laughs, the same, beautiful laugh that Jaemin could get drunk on, has gotten drunk on before. “Jaemin. _We have time_. We have so much time, we have all the time in the world.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says weakly, and he knows Jeno is right. Sometimes, he’s just scared if he doesn’t lock everything down and plan everything out perfectly, Jeno will slip through his fingers again. Jeno is good at picking up on this, and he can feel the doubt permeating the air, the doubt he knows Jaemin doesn’t really hold onto and yet haunts him.

“Baby. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Always, remember? We promised. I don’t care if there’s a ring on my finger or not. What matters is what’s in here.” He places his hand over Jaemin’s heart, the same way that Jaemin did to him all those years ago, the first time they were in bed together. “I promise, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno kisses him softly. 

“Let’s dance. I want to dance. Dance with me, Jaemin?”

It’s not _really_ a question, but Jaemin nods anyway. He’ll do whatever Jeno wants, whatever his precious, spontaneous heart wants to do. He remembers the look in Jeno’s eyes when he dragged him to the roof to look at the stars when they were in Tokyo, and he has the same exact look in his eyes now, as he asks Jaemin to dance with him around their living room in the moonlight.

Jaemin isn’t quite sure what he did in his past life to end up with such a beautiful creature like Jeno, but he’ll never, ever question it. They’re meant to be together, made for each other, and nothing matters but that.

“Let’s go to Tokyo,” Jaemin says a while later, as they spin in slow circles to Jeno’s favorite song, Jeno’s head resting on his shoulder. 

“You really want to?” Jeno looks up at him, searching for a hint of reluctance in his eyes, but he can’t find one. 

“I do,” Jaemin says, and Jeno smiles. “We owe it to ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Jeno says softly, and Jaemin kisses him. “Let’s go to Tokyo.”

**Author's Note:**

> i know i havent been posting much but everything im working on has turned into... something else and suddenly all of my drafts are a lot longer than i ever intended them to be 😭 that being said, this has been in my drafts for at least two months and i hope that ive done this story (and the song its inspired by) justice! i dont write a lot of plot driven things its usually just oneshots so i would appreciate any and all feedback 🥺 please let me know what you guys think, i love you all!!!


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